Sometimes life is a love poem. A nutritious breakfast in the morning, a cup of hot milk handed to me by my mother when I was studying at night, and an umbrella given to me by my father in rainy days ... I have been surrounded by their love all my life, so happy.
Sometimes life is a poem of friendship. I remember that time, I was injured and my left leg was broken, so I couldn't go to school for a long time. At first, I stayed at home glumly, feeling lonely and bored. Within a few days, the greetings of my classmates kept ringing, and several enthusiastic students came to visit me at home to chat with me and talk about school. The friendship between classmates at that time made me feel very warm.
Sometimes life is a struggle poem. The junior high school exam is coming, and my daily study makes me exhausted. Looking at those boring articles and difficult math problems, sometimes I really want to give up. At this time, my teacher's encouragement and family's expectation made me overcome my laziness. Facing the first small pass in my life, I chose persistence and struggle.
Every day is a poem, delicious and unforgettable.
Life is a poem. Life creates poetry, and poetry floats and sinks in life.
-inscription
Sitting in a quiet classroom at the moment, let the memory stop here, look up at the teaching building on the other side, and let the memory begin to go backwards.
It is hard to stay for three years, and everything in the past seems to be a beautiful handwriting, printed in my heart and written into a moving poem.
"The cost of pure wine, Jinbei, a hip flask of ten thousand copper, a tracts of food need one million coins.
I threw the food bar and cup aside. I couldn't eat or drink. I pulled out my dagger. I peeped in four directions in vain. "
We are new here, like a group of lost lambs, full of confusion about everything in the future. Faced with the sudden increase in my studies, I am at a loss. Seeing that the students around them have entered the learning state, they are anxious and full of hope, and they have also embarked on the journey of sneaking into the unknown.
"I will cross the Yellow River, but the ice will block the ferry and it will snow in Taihang Mountain.
I will sit on a fishing rod and lean lazily by the stream, but I suddenly dream of sailing a boat towards the sun. "
I want to clear the fog before me, but I don't even have the courage to reach out. With a straight face, no one knows that the inner pain has increased a little. Looking at the joy and sadness of the students in the classroom when they got the test paper, I felt my heart falling and the feathers on my wings falling off one by one. I also want to be excellent, which is the ultimate dream of everyone here, but it is difficult to achieve, and we must accumulate enough tears and sweat. "A drop of water can pierce a stone", only a breakthrough in quantity can lead to a leap in wisdom. I believe I can do it.
"It's hard to go! The journey is very hard and there are many roads. Is it safe now? "
With the implementation of the new enrollment policy, many friends have surpassed us. Looking at their backs, my heart is astringent. Envy or jealousy? Or the so-called hate. I don't know, either. Why do we have to suffer so much from life and shed so many tears to grow up? Is it because my horsepower is not full?
"One day, I will ride the long wind, break through the stormy waves, sail straight and build a bridge on the deep sea."
Out of memory, there is only the sound of the second hand ticking in my ear. Time is always moving forward, no matter how often I look back. I thought I would be different, but in the end I just hung out with the public. We live in an ordinary world. It takes more courage and perseverance to shape an extraordinary self. I believe that as long as I am prepared, even in the most distant future, when my hair turns white, I will one day taste the sweetness of this bitter tea. Difficulties and grievances are nothing, nothing.
Poetry writes about life, and life is like poetry. A poem "Difficult to Walk" not only describes the poet Li Bai's ambition, but also describes my short junior high school career.
On the last page of my life, I will definitely pick up a pen and write a poem that I am most satisfied with.
Life is a poem. It's another sunny morning, and the naughty little sun has climbed up from the east. A small wind roared by, and the flowers and plants outside the window danced with the rhythm of the spring breeze. Then, a new day began.
Motherly love is the purest-it's good to have a mother.
My mother woke me up ten minutes ago, and now I'm still sleeping. "What are you doing? You haven't got up yet! " A "lion roar" instantly pulled me out of my sleep. I sat up and my mother suddenly came in. "What are you thinking? Get up day by day. Look at the time, don't hurry! You are still grinding here ... "However, I have long been used to the way my mother wakes me up. I simply cleaned up and went to school. On my way to school, I saw the leaves on the maple trees on the roadside turn red. Wow, autumn came to see me.
Don't forget your roots if you have the heart-do your homework quickly.
At school, class after class, the teacher's upper lip and lower lip are always closed ... I should sit in the front row and listen to the class best and most carefully, but as soon as I listen, I think of what to eat at noon, big meatballs or eggplant with sauce, hahaha. At the end of the day, I'm too tired to want it. After school. I am walking home with a heavy shell on my back, humming a tune, skipping home every day, and I am very happy after school. When I got home, my mother was waiting for me at home, and the food was still hot. After supper, I began to do my homework obediently. Alas, I didn't do anything this day, and I was busy enough.
Happy Mid-Autumn Festival-full moon in my hometown.
Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival. The round moon is like a big jade plate, hanging high in the sky. Our family sat around and divided a moon into several parts, one for each person. Everyone is enjoying delicious moon cakes happily. Under the moon, the grass shed clear light and dew, and several restless crickets were still singing. The moon is so charming, so sad and flawless that people feel unreal. How beautiful! I looked up at the sky and saw the dark blue night sky dotted with several twinkling stars. The beautiful moon roams in the night sky. Through the cracks in the clouds, she scattered soft light and covered the earth with a layer of brilliance. I said to myself: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival.
Every day is a microfilm. Live today carefully, because you don't know whether the road ahead is bitter or sweet. Life is like a poem, which is revised over and over again, modifying your character and your willfulness. Live every day and write your own poem.
Life is a poem. Four years is like a song, and life is like a poem. Life is connected by poetic fragments, each fragment is a poem, and each poem is full of different flavors.
Life is a poem, a happy poem. When I got excellent grades, my teacher gave me an approving look, and my classmates gave me envious eyes.
Life is a poem, a sad poem. When my grades dropped, my teacher looked at me with disappointed eyes, and my classmates no longer looked at me with envious eyes.
Life is a poem, an inspiring poem. When I made up my mind to catch up with everyone, I found that things were not as simple as I thought, and the gap between me and my classmates was getting farther and farther. I can't find the direction at a loss, and it's dark all around. Fortunately, my mother gave me the name of the lamp. She patted me on the head: "It doesn't matter if I fail. The key is that you must learn from failure. " Hearing these warm words, my heart ignited a spark of hope.
In fact, life is not monotonous, it is colorful, it is like a poem, with climax, trough, surging river, trickle, ups and downs …
Life is a poem. Poetry, with beautiful sentences, has been circulating, but I think every day is a poem.
In the morning, the night fog has not dispersed, and I can't help taking a deep breath in the night fog. A fresh breath is rippling in my body, which makes me straighten my back and prepare for a new day.
Poetry in the morning is fresh and fragrant.
After a busy morning at noon, we can finally have a rest. At noon, the sun is warm and my body is very comfortable. It seems that even lunch at noon has become delicious!
The poems at noon are delicious.
In the evening, after finishing my homework, I walk in a busy street. Looking up at the sky, the stars are winking at passers-by! But confused, I looked at the pedestrians next to me, yes! In this busy world, who has ever looked up at those stars because of sitting or standing still? Thought of here, I can't help but slow down. Enjoy the infinitely beautiful sky.
Poetry at night is wonderful and special.
When I was a child, life was a poem and life was a painting. In this painting, there is a beautiful garden, full of childlike interest and tranquility. I collect happiness in painting, and I release fantasy in the garden.
When I was a teenager, life was a mountain. There is a mysterious Garden of Eden on the mountain, where there is magical magic and my strong desire. I watched a westward journey, criss-crossing mountains and rivers, soaring in the blue sky.
In college, life is a book, and books are an ocean of knowledge. There are treasures I long for in the ocean, where I cultivated my ideals and ignited my hopes.
In middle age, life is a river, a river carrying long years. I am on this side of the river, and my dream is on the other side. As a tracker, I am trudging for my dream.
Now, life is a poem, a poem full of freedom and persistence. There is no William Wang's uninhibited drunken lying on the battlefield, and there is no Wang Wei's quiet seclusion.
Life is a poem, which condenses the rings of the years. A string of deep rings, ah, imprint the ups and downs of the past; The leaping poems are engraved with the hardships of the past.
Life is a poem, reciting the memories of youth. There is no longer an impassioned impulse, because the passage of time has already thrown away passion; There is no more blindness of blood boiling, because the twists and turns of life have already made me more mature;
You will say: the sharpening of life has already washed away my edges and corners, and my life is a glass of clear water, which is dull and tasteless. Then, my friend, water your flower of life with this clear water! You will find that your life is no longer monotonous, and your heart is full of blue sky. At this time, your life is a magnificent poem.
Poetry is a portrayal of life, because it shows your persistent footprints.
Poetry is the ring of life, because it records the most precious moments in your life!
Life is a poem, which reveals the theme of life and deduces the movement of life.
Life is a poem, accompanied by the melody of life, flowing with the notes of life. ......
Life is an ancient poem handed down to this day, in the poem composition 7. With a wide range of subjects and rich connotations, it can be called "a masterpiece among masterpieces".
The wonder of nature
Life is not a lack of beauty, but a lack of eyes to find beauty. Ancient poetry makes my eyes shine. Sometimes I climb to the top of the mountain, and other mountains look short under the sky. ; Sometimes the Tianmen view is interrupted, and Higashi Shimizu flows; Sometimes I listen to the wind and rain at night and count the fallen flowers; Sometimes I lean on the bridge to listen to the flowing water and talk about Sang Ma with a cup in my hand. I have appreciated the beautiful mountains and rivers in the poem, whether it is the surprise of "another village is full of flowers", or the leisure of "starting from the beginning, the cloud feet are low", whether it is the melancholy of "green reducing red worrying people" or the sonority of "rain or shine".
People come from nature, return to nature after all, return to nature, swim freely, how can life not be wonderful?
Splendid in pride
Throughout the ages, on heroes, a generation of romantic, a generation of heroes. Li Bai's Yun Fan is dotted with the surging river, Xin Qiji's Drunken Eyes and Blurred Sword, Su Shi's Flashy Youth Soul and Lu You's Fantasy are full of iron and steel ... Who can match such heroism? Every time at this time, I feel a kind of soul-stirring heroism, just like traveling around the world in ancient times and discussing the world with people with lofty ideals, and my mind is suddenly enlightened.
Tasting the heroic spirit of the man of the hour, I am strong and fierce, and I am proud of the sky. How can life not be wonderful?
The beauty is moving.
A large part of the charm of ancient poetry comes from true feelings. what is love ? On the Yellow Crane Tower, friendship is out of reach, love can't be buried in a ten-mile lonely grave, and affection can't be sewn into a thousand layers of wanderers ... Ancient poems explain the meaning of affection and emotion for us. The philosopher said, "I think, therefore I am." Part of thinking is moving. I shed tears and was moved by the true feelings in the poem. Because of this, I realize that love is a precious thing.
I am touched so much that I know what I should cherish. Day after day, I have mastered the feeling of crystal clear. How can life not be wonderful?
Under the blue light, read an ancient poem and recite an ancient word to make you smile. ...
Life is a poem. Get up in the morning.
The golden sunlight shone brightly in the small room through the white curtain gauze on the wide window. The green wall with direct light is shiny and light blue, and the edge part is old green, almost olive green. The floor reflects the white of flowers like glass. Only on the bed covered with floral bedding, there is a kind of glazed color flowing.
Out of the room, the air was a little cold. I couldn't find my slippers for a while, so I walked barefoot quickly, leaving a series of "rustling" sounds. I caught a glimpse of movement in the kitchen, followed by a "cooing" sound, which was that the water in the pot was boiling. The water vapor surged and condensed into milky water droplets on the window glass and glass door, which made my sight suddenly confused ... Through the hazy glass door, I saw the familiar figure busy (preparing breakfast for us), that was my mother who worked late last night!
Noon.
The TV in the living room is not on. Those noises and voices told me that my father was in his room, watching his favorite sports program. Correspondingly, the rumbling sound of the range hood in the kitchen, the collision sound of the spatula, the sizzling sound of the oil particles, and the swishing sound of the faucet ... all kinds of sounds come one after another, forming a symphony. Of course, the performer is also a hardworking mother. Dishes were brought out and put on the dining table, emitting attractive fish, meat and vegetables.
Good afternoon.
Tired of doing homework, I opened the screen window. There are no birds in the trees outside, and there is a breeze blowing from time to time. I see branches swaying and leaves swaying. Walking out of the room, I saw my brother sitting on the ground. Bored, he stuck his head between the pillars of the stair guardrail, and his skinny legs leaned out from under the railing and hung down naturally. He just stared at the beige wall opposite, which was very quiet. Mother finally came out of the kitchen and took care of her little turtle. She emptied the slightly turbid water in the water tank, replaced it with clean water, sprinkled some turtle food, and then her mouth rose, watching the turtle flopping all the time.
At night.
Finally, I went to bed, and through the window, I saw the star-like lights on the other side go out one by one. I finally turned off the bedside lamp and had a beautiful dream with my heart, leaving all the troubles of the day behind.
Everything is so beautiful! Life is actually a poem, a long poem with simple language and sincere feelings. And the author of this long poem is you and me.
Life is a poem. 9 mortals are boring, and the world of mortals is prosperous and famous. Walking in the reinforced concrete forest, complaining that life is true or false. I feel tired, helpless and pale. Why not find the feeling of "I love the lack of lake in the east and the white sand embankment in the shade of Qingyang" in the situation of "several early warblers compete for warm trees and whose new swallows peck at spring mud"? You can even pack your bags. "Once you climb to the top of the mountain, you will see that all the other mountains look short under the sky." Therefore, "wine is a happy occasion, and it is fun!" When you find a poem, life is simple, and your life is a poem.
If you are a travel enthusiast, please pack your bags and find a wonderful feeling.
At present, jumping out of the food and clothing circle and running on the well-off road, the word "tourism" enters the homes of ordinary people.
There are mountains and rivers everywhere, and there is no shortage of beautiful scenery anywhere. In their spare time, people go out of mulberries and travel around the country. They are full and don't support themselves.
The mountains and rivers are not the same, and the beautiful scenery is very different. As a tourist attraction, it is more or less created, just like an actor's makeup, which constitutes a combination of natural and humanistic beauty. People are curious and like the new and hate the old. Aesthetically, they say, "Being familiar with a place without scenery produces beauty from distance." People go out and taste the life in a different place from a distance. Since it is called "product", it is of course novel and has a novel psychological leap, and ordinary days will also have a lasting appeal. Seeing different scenery and meeting people with different faces every day, the mood changes from time to time, and the situation and taste are constantly updated. Beauty lingers in my heart, facing people's psychology of liking the new and hating the old. Like a modern misty poem, the voice is cadenced, the rhythm is ups and downs, the rhythm is harmonious and beautiful, and it is smooth and catchy.
Some tourists can not only enjoy their eyes and ears, but also use the human landscape to achieve refreshing and inspiring effects.
When I came to Guilin, I looked at the blue sky and white clouds, the bamboo shoots-like peaks, the clusters of bamboo forests, the mirror-like scenery of the Lijiang River, and the fairy-like Zhuang girls. It was dreamlike and refreshing.
Listen, "There are flowers at the top of the mountain and water at the bottom of the bridge." There is injustice in my heart, and folk songs are like fire. "That's sister liu! Sanjie Liu is a combination of the beautiful scenery of Lijiang River and Sunyushan Mountain, and Zhuang girls beautify their bodies. It is said that the beauty of Guilin is covered with holy light and has eternal artistic charm. The beauty of Lijiang River nourishes Sanjie Liu, who thinks of Guilin landscape.
Walking into Sanjie Liu, you are bathed in beautiful legends. Guilin's aura is possessed, your soul shines, and cultural tourism is farther than a journey of eyes and ears.
Come to Dongting Lake, set foot on Junshan Mountain and climb Yueyang Tower, and you will have a panoramic view of "taking the distant mountains, swallowing the Yangtze River, making soup endless, sunny in the morning and evening, and the weather is colorful", which is refreshing and magnificent for visitors. Looking back, the voice of "worry about the world first, and enjoy the world later" sounded around me. A boat came from Dongting Lake. At the bow stood a scholar with a fluttering suit and a ribbon scarf. You held out your hands and grasped history. "Don't be happy with things, don't be sad for yourself" makes you broad-minded, and when you dock with Fan Zhongyan, your soul suddenly becomes heavy.
Tourism and culture are interlinked. Ordinary days penetrate into the essence of beauty, and what you see is poetry.
There are few travel opportunities and many ordinary days. In order to save money and see the society, many people are looking for a good way to prolong life.
If you are a climber, mountain climbing is a poetic way of life.
Mountain climbing is a high-energy exercise, which makes the limbs strong and the heart tense. There are water, trees, grass and flowers on the mountain. The mountains are high, the water is blue, the trees are green, the grass is green and the flowers are bright. When the eyes contact with it, the world of mortals disappears, and the pale body and mind return to nature, feeling full of green, and the heart is full of grass. Climb halfway up the mountain, it's hot, let the mountain wind blow, or hold a wisp of water to pour the noodles, which is refreshing and cool; When you are thirsty, you will be intoxicated with a sip of mountain spring. Climb to the top of the mountain, sit on the stone, and the breeze blends with the wild incense. You can't breathe, your eyes are wide open, your spirit is refreshed and you are comfortable. Life is trivial and light, as if you are the master of the world. Looking at the blue sky, you are the blue sky; Take a bath with clear water, and you are clear water; When you see green trees, you are green trees; Touch the grass and you are the grass; Smell the flowers, you are the flowers! All this is on the mountain, and the people on the mountain are immortals! A little more wild, a little breeze, and you'll be happy! "Infinite Scenery of Dangerous Peak" blurts out, raises a glass with great men, and you become a poet, and your life and feelings are full of poetry. Old age, physical decline, can not climb the mountain. If you are a scholar, a close outing is also a suitable way.
Nowadays, small towns are built from a high starting point: the square is spacious and well-equipped; Leisure park, flowers and plants everywhere; By the river, willows are crying; Rural villages, small bridges and flowing water; In the farmyard, apricot flowers are sold in deep alleys ... Come to the water's edge and sit quietly for a while. "Willow is green in Jiang Shuiping, and you can hear the song on the Langjiang River", "Overlooking the Weicheng, the guest house is clear and the willow color is new", and the poems related to willow come to mind, reminding people of the beauty of youth, making you walk into history and shake hands with the ancients. The world has become bigger, it feels three-dimensional, and your life has been extended. Wandering in the alley, a graceful girl with an oil-paper umbrella comes to you. A gust of wind floats by, and you look back like a dream ... As the sun sets, you wander on a small bridge. "I am lonely, I am a few trees across the water." The boat is picturesque, and the fisherman sings the reed. "Although you can't write poems, you can see them here.
Modern people are full of running about their livelihood and the future. During the day, people mix with noise and noise. Emotionally, people are cold, distant and alert. Mentally full of depression and helplessness, I feel full of fast-paced vanity and impetuousness. Dead of night, can't sleep, don't be agitated, don't worry. Put on clothes, get out of bed, open the pages, and taste Su Dongpo's "Flying in the sky and underground, a drop in the ocean." Mourn the moment in my life and admire the infinity of the long river. "low-key; Look at Liu Zongyuan's Super HarmonyOS System, mixed with foreigners, lonely but I don't know. "floating; Following Tao Yuanming's "Picking Chrysanthemums under the East Hedgerow", the products are free and easy "leisurely seeing Nanshan"; Sing "Peach Blossom Pond Deep in thousands of feet" with Li Bai * * *, which means "It's not as good as sending my love to Wang Lun" ... The river and the sea are boundless and all is silent, smoothing the noise in your ear. Pure friendship springs moisten your dry heart, lead you beyond the world of mortals, relieve your depression and helplessness, and float in seclusion makes you forget vanity and impetuousness.
Take a sip of tea, the tea smells elegant, the body and mind are surrounded by poetry and painting, the words gradually turn into pictures, the images float, and the clothes are simple. I came to the boundless river to soak in the moon, sat in the cabin with the poet, and enjoyed the artistic conception of "the east ship and the west ship are silent, and we saw the white autumn moon entering the heart of the river"; Carrying a hoe and Mr. Wuliu "planting beans in Shannan", holding hands and smiling, "I don't care enough about clothes, but I don't want to go against my wishes." Be suddenly enlightened, close your heart, embrace the poetic feeling with open arms and taste the poetic life.
If you are a fan of checkerboard climbing, then simply pick up a pen and write some words that you think are free, not for publication but for self-production, keep a distance from the world of mortals, stand at the height of universal life and examine all beings.
Write essays that criticize the current abuses and vulgar world. If you want to write essays, you have to jump into the red law first, follow the vulgarity, involve ugliness, involve depth, and truly understand. This is a process of soul suffering. After this purgatory, you have Sun Walker's keen eyes, see the problem to the point, remind you that the world you live in is sharp and vivid, and the essays contain extremely heavy weight. If the essayist wants to see the world of mortals through the glass, his mind is always clear and his eyes are intoxicating, is it boring?
Write prose about landscape description. Jump into nature, observe the beautiful scenery carefully and feast your eyes. Then merge with the soul, turn it into a green background, and then put in beautiful words. Smooth sentences wander in the brain, which is a poetic flow, washing away feelings with green. The eyes see beauty, the soul feels beauty, the pen creates beauty, and life is beautiful?
Write a novel. Novels must be integrated into life, processing materials and fabricating plots. Reality is dirty, vulgar and helpless. If you feel depressed, you can use a flower pen to create a refreshing, smooth and pure peach blossom garden, and make the spiritual Eden delicious and colorful. The world of mortals is impetuous, noisy and tangled, and the body can't escape. Let's pursue a soul, just like the paradise created by Dante's Divine Comedy. The beautiful realm made people in the Middle Ages pursue the light and created the "Renaissance" era. A free mind creates a blue sky of spirit, allowing depressed people to see a metaphysical rainbow.
If you are a music lover, tired of bones and muscles, exhausted of body and mind, and confused of soul, sit next to the guzheng and come to the river for a moonlit night with dexterous hands and Zhang, looking for an Iraqi who is dressed in white and has a heart. Moonlight is like yarn, dreamlike, shrouded in green water, with a long artistic conception and a wandering figure. Iraqis are looking around and trying to find it. Yiren by the river, are you the first person to see the bright moon? Moon, who is the first person you see? Is it my Iraqi ... The river is endless, and the rolling waves answer eternal questions ... It is a spiritual inquiry, a poetic inquiry, and the soul will always be young with the poet Zhang.
Otherwise, turn on the computer and point to Jiuzhaigou, which is a magical place. Under the guidance of the rugged and ever-changing tenor, you have entered a magical paradise-Jiuzhaigou in late autumn, which is particularly three-dimensional. Four or five kilometers above sea level, it is covered with snow. The mountainside is a virgin forest composed of maple, chestnut, nanmu, green bar, beech, persimmon and other miscellaneous trees, including red maple leaf, green chestnut and huangnanmu ... all kinds of colors are mixed and colorful; At the foot of the mountain are green Chinese fir and masson pine, which are lush and cover the sky. At the foot of Chinese fir forest and pine forest, streams and streams run down from snow-capped mountains, kissing grasslands and forests all the way, and the clear water is as blue as a dream. The flowing water is crystal clear, reflecting the surrounding trees, people and grass. The world is surrounded by turquoise, a real paradise! Streams and ponds are surrounded by trees. Autumn wind blows, yellow leaves are fluttering, dancing like butterflies. ...
Singing beautifully, I feel that I am sliding between green mountains and green waters, blue sky and white clouds, and I am intoxicated and happy to forget my worries.
"When a crane flies in the clear sky, it brings poetry to Bixiao." Poetic life is a blue sky, which allows free hearts to fly indefinitely; Poetic life is a carefree feeling, which makes people see that bloom is full of flowers and clouds.
Life is a poem, and the world is spring.
Life is a poem. If life is written as a poem, it must be gorgeous. There is a distant place in my heart, where there are towering Himalayas, dazzling aurora in Iceland, Eiffel Tower standing in the wind and rain, and Sahara desert with yellow sand all over the sky. Nature has decorated the world with unique costumes, and they also have the same name-yearning. I yearn for the richness of the world and marvel at the ingenuity of nature. I have never questioned how beautiful and promising the world is.
If life is a poem, it must have ups and downs. If you talk about life, you will definitely think of an adjective-mixed feelings, some people have luxury cars and have no worries about their livelihood; And some people live in the wind and sleep in rags. Life has no cruel side, because it is not easy. We pursue its origin, but a pile of carbon and oxygen compounds will eventually disappear. And the unique poetry of life, isn't it from the unknown? Lin Qingxuan once compared life to an ocean, and we are just poor people struggling to catch driftwood in Wang Yang. However, some people catch a lot of driftwood, while others can't protect themselves.
If life is a poem, it must be bittersweet. The happiness of sixteen is simple. A badminton match, a little progress, or a new dress can make a dull life colorful. At that time, we were like "carefree" and "unhappy", wandering back and forth between them, laughing mercilessly and crying heartily. We are as simple as a blank sheet of paper and believe in the promise of a lifetime. Life is like a cup of peach oolong tea, with bitter taste and sweet aftertaste.
If life is a poem, it must be written for others. The title of the poem is undecided, the content is broad, and it is played by people. Everyone's life is a little poem, even if it starts with sadness, it will certainly get better. "The ending of the story is good. If they are not good, it is not the end. " Even if you can't write poetry now, it doesn't matter. Who says poetry can't be the art of unintentional collision?
Everyone has a poem of his own.